Taken Home
by Speed
Summary: Two years after Kenshin leaves the Dojo because of his illness, an even transpires which leads him home. Unrevised.
1. confrontation

He looked upwards at the large shape, a cloth draped over it. Mist cloded his vision- not in reality, but as he recalled the similarity between this and another time. Drawing his handkerchief, he coughed lightly into it- it had once been pink, but now, with use, it had become pure red. Although a cough like that didn't really hurt him so much, with his throat the way it was, it still brought up blood.  
  
Still, he had been eating a little better lately- he was feeling pretty good. He'd been much more hurt and sick before. Well, meybe not sick.  
  
Turning his attention back to the tall, enclothed shape, he felt his stomach sour slightly as it turned towards him. There was no mistaking it now. He'd been made. With a simple gesture, the bearer of the cloth implied that they should take it up outside the city limits.  
  
He agreed.  
  
They stood outside the city limits by a good margin, in a slight valley. Shielded from vision, and also some blockage in case some landscape broke free, as it was sometime wont to do when he engaged in his battles. He could say the same of his opponent, which made him breath assured when the taller man's gait had led him here.  
  
Squaring off, Kenshin took a good look at his opponent.  
  
"How are they?" he asked.  
  
"It's been a long time since I saw them, but they weren't doing so well."  
  
"So, you've returned to the path of killing?" he asked.  
  
"Not unless it's you." the man replied.  
  
"I did what I did for her sake." Kenshin replied.  
  
"It would have killed her. I'm stronger, and I couldn't have watched her die." the rurouni said.  
  
"So instead, you left her to die without you watching?"  
  
Kenshin's shock seemed to be an invitation, so the other man continued.  
  
"She might not have gotten sick like you did, but after you left, it started. At first, she just wouldn't eat- that wasn't a problem for too long. Yahiko and Megumi made good and sure she ate. But even still, she began to waste away. Her hair began to fall out, in big chunks. We found her throwing up some of what she ate, away from the Dojo. She looked terrible last time I saw her, Kenshin. I even tried to tell her to forget about you, after it became clear that you weren't coming back. I thought she could- she's young, and could be pretty. We dolled her up, fed her right- her hair came back, bt she was still dead inside. and soon, it was back, even worse than before."  
  
Kenshin's sour gut turned uglier at the thought of this man telling Kaoru to forget about him- but Kenshin had to agree. It was better that way. still, just the thought of Kaoru with another man...  
  
the man continued. "Hiko came, to continue Yahiko's training. If all is well now, Yahiko might well be Seijuro Hiko the 14th by now."  
  
Kenshin allowed himself a little smile. "That's good for him. I know he'll use it for good, even if I'd preferred him to learn Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, and not kill."  
  
"Oh, he'll kill."  
  
"What?" Kenshin asked, mouth agape.  
  
"The day we left, leaving Megumi to take care of her, we both swore one thing. We'd bring you back to her, sick or not, regardless of the consequences. You'll come, whether it's over my dead body that Yahiko drags yours home. She needs to end this, Kenshin."  
  
Kenshin allowed himself a little smile. "Sano, I don't mean to return. She is much stronger in that way than you give her credit. If it's ben a long time, she might even be married by now."  
  
"that'll never happen. You just don't know where he strength is. Come on now, don't make me take you back by force."  
  
Kenshin was blown away by the first portion, but a part of him he hadn't felit in a long while was riled up by the second portion. Sano, threatening him? Did he know what he was getting into?  
  
"Sano, My skills have not faded. I am dying, but end this ruse. Go home, and help her forget about me."  
  
"It's your last chance, Kenshin! I'm way to angry right now to just let you go. Come on now, walking alongside or dragging behind!" Sano shouted, ripping the cloth free from the Zanbatou.  
  
Kenshin had to gasp. Deep gashes marred the sides of the mighty weapon, so heavy no one man could wield it- unless that man was Sanosuke. Still, it's obvious heavy use aside, the weapon was well crafted. Give it's greater mass, it was probably a match for Kenshin's old Sakaba.  
  
"Go home, Sano." Kenshin said sadly.  
  
He felt it as soon as he saw it- the disturbance in the air the accompanied the blur that almost evaded Kenshin's eyes entirely, as his masterful battle reflexes snapped him out of reach of the huge weapon's blunt side, screaming through the pocket of space he had just occupied.  
  
With a snarl, Kenshin let loos with the earth cutter, tearing up the ground in between him and Sano. But the taller warrrior hurled the tip of his sword town into the oncoimig blast, and with a mighty push, leaped into the air, using the Zanbatou as a pole to vault from. At the peak of his jump, Sano allowed his body to pass the zabatou, then jerked it free, swinging it overhead at Kenshin, who was just finishing the technique.  
  
He's so much faster...  
  
Kenshin leaped out of the way of the blurring blade, evading it easily enough, but with his heart stll beating faster for having avoided sharing the fate of the twelve foot gash of earth that had befallen Sano- or perhaps, Zanza's- weapon.  
  
"Are you faster, or am I slower?" Kenshin asked.  
  
"Maybe a little of both." Sano replied, suddenly picking up the weapon with one hand. Kenshin's eyes grew wide with amazement, as Sano drew his right hand, holding the huge sword, backwards, and leapt into battle leading with his left side.  
  
"That's the Gattotsu!" Kenshi cried as he avoided the blur yet again. A feeling told kenshin to duck, and he narrowly avoided the blurring blade as Sano stopped with an uneven balance, and turned his speed into a wide swing that chopped a tree that it only nicked clear in twain.  
  
Kenshin was through with this- he would attack, and show Sano that he had no place dictating orders based on strength. With that, the man once known as the Hitokiri battousai leapt into action, blurring the distance between himself and Sano as the wild haired man regained control of his sword on the far side of his body.  
  
Kenshin's Sakaba struck side and rib, giving a satisfying meaty thunk. Sano was a strong combatant at his weakest, so Kenshin hadn't bothered to hold back, as he had when they'd met. Kenshin favored Sano with a sad smile as he watched, preparing to catch the proud warrior.  
  
Pain clouded Kenshin's vision- he simply had not seen it coming. Or actually, he had- he just failed to see what it really was. With a blur, Sano's hand had shot out towards Kenshin, but stopped. Kenshin's eyes were just barely acute enough to note that the hand had stopped before he crumpled like a rag and hurtled to the ground a few yards away.  
  
"n..Nani?" Kenshin asked a he stood. He saw that he'd by far underestimated his opponent. That hadn't been Gatotsu or anything even of the sort- it had all been a lure for that punch Sano rubbed his side none too lightly.  
  
"That tickles." Sano said, favoring Kenshin with a sad smile.  
  
"I am not that weak!" Kenshin cried, assaulting Sano. His sword thrust forward. Sano moved to block with the Zanbatou, but the blade of the Sakabe pierced right through it. For a dread moment, Kenshin thought all his sacrifices to protect the life of another had fallen to a slip of the foot.  
  
But with snap, his senses informed him that he had fallen for another one of Sano's traps. Holding the handle with the point speared into the ground, Sano kicked the side of one sharp blade, spinning the weapon in place. Before Kenshin could retrieve the sword from it's emplacement, Sano has spun it and drew the Sakaba out with his own hand.  
  
Kenshin knew it was over. He wasn't sure how much he had lost over time, but he did know one thing- there would be no way to pry that sword from Sano's grip.  
  
The creaking of steel reassured that thought in Kenshin's mind, as the hand permanently adopted some of th characteristics of Sano's mighty grip.  
  
Sano's sad smile was still in place. "Eh, I finally beat you, eh, Kenshin? I guess this means I don't have to follow you around all the time, huh?" the wild haired man said.  
  
Kenshin had the grace to give a sheepish smile. "I guess, Sanosuke-san."  
  
"Don't give me that san crap. come on, we're going home."  
  
"I don't suppose..."  
  
"Nope. It's final. Megumi's probly been workin' the whole time to make some cure or somethin' for you when you get back. You'll probably be right as rain. Besides, I hear bad cooking can cure the consumption." Sano said as the pair began their long walk. He eyed Kenshin with a wide smile.  
  
"Ano... if the cure is worse than the disease..." Kenshin began.  
  
With an even wider smile, Sano slapped Kenshin heartily on the back. "That's what I like to hear. Good ol' Kenshin."  
  
Kenshin coughed, and drew his little handkerchief, but before he could cough into it, Sano took it and replaced it with a clean one. Pink, like his had once been- Kaoru's.  
  
"Here, take this clean one. It's for you, anyways."  
  
Kenshin sighed, and he smelled it a little before hacking into it.  
  
He guessed he could get used to this letting the other guys make the decisions. He could just relax, hopefully get better, and most importantly, try and take care of Kaoru.  
  
Kenshin had never been so happy to lose. 


	2. growth

The young man swung the sword in a blur. It almost brought a smile out of the old teacher, but he stopped it from cracking his face. There was something wrong with the swing.  
  
"Hey you. You're doing it wrong. Just like my last student did."  
  
the boy fixed him with a defiant glare- the one he'd known he would use- that said that as far as he was concerned, that meant he wasn't doing it wrong. Well, the old master still had a few things left to show his old pupil, and he'd start by showing it to this boy here.  
  
"All right then, ready yourself."  
  
The boy snapped upright and immediately held his sword with nervous tension. The teacher waited for him to relax- he wanted him to do it as well as he could, and still fail. It wouldn't do for the boy's lesson to go unheeded because he thought the fault was with his nerves, not his technique.  
  
The shor haired youth fixed him with a glare as he finally relaxed, and the teacher sprang into action. The youth didn't tense at the sudden motion. Their swords met a few times, clashing, until the teacher made a conscious mistake, drawing out the youth's imperfect techinique. With a screaming slash, the sword bore down on him- there was no mistaking it, the boy's raw speed was exceptional- but his handle spun up at the last moment, sending a shaking down to the wrist. The boy's grip was sure, but still, in that instant, the master could strike. With a slap to the wrist from the tip of the master's blade, the boy's sword fell down.  
  
"With skills like that, you'll never become Seijuro Hiko the 14th" the master said.  
  
"i'm not doing this for you, old man." the brush haired youth replied. "I'm doing it for me, and for Kaoru. I'm only going to get as strong as I need to bring Oro-face back to Busu. I ain't gonna kill anyone."  
  
The teacher smiled. "You have a long way to go, no matter how fast you're learning. I shouldn't have told you. It spoiled you, made you weak and complacent. I'll probably have to get rid of you and get a new student, at this rate. Someone to bring Kenshin home."  
  
Yahiko howled in a gutteral roar as he swept up his sword and brought it around just as he had before.  
  
No, not just as he had before, Hiko noticed, as his block didn't faze the youth in the slightest. Instead, the older man had to give ground as yahiko's hand began to blur. With his hand blurring, the tip of the sword was two fast to see. This, however, was still well within Seijuro Hiko the 13th's control.  
  
Throwing out a couple of fierce blocks, Hiko slowed Yahiko's wrist just enough to observe the pattern. Calmly allowing Yahiko to think he had the upper hand, Seijuro picked his timing, then thrust his sword over Yahiko's. With a flick of the wrist, Seijuro pinned both baldes next to each other with his arm and the strength of his wrist. Yahiko's eyes grew wide, and Seijuro pressed- he pushed his sword forward suddenly, but under tight control. The tip of his razor sharp sword poked through the skin of yahiko's forearm, and with a yelp, Yahiko's grip loosened. Hiko flicked his wrist and moved his shoulder, and with a flourish, he allowed Yahiko's blade to slide into the sheath at his own waist, still holding his own sword pointed a little above Yahiko's head. His left hand remained at his side as it had during the whole exercise.  
  
"You'd be a good student if only you were a good student." Hiko said.  
  
"That makes no sense" Yahiko growled.  
  
"I'm the master. I'll tell you what makes sense and what doesn't." Hiko replied mirthfully. He wore a smug smile.  
  
"Well, hurry up and tell me! Busu needs me!" Yahiko growled.  
  
"If you're going to bring Kenshin back against his will, you need all the time you can possibly spare."  
  
---  
  
They ate sparing by the campfire. Hiko would continue the training after nightfall, in order to train the boy's senses. They needed heightening. To a powerful samurai, such as ShiShio, Kenshin or himself, or even Fuji, the giant- the eyes were but one way you were informed of what was going on. Your touch told you perhaps the most- the strength of your opponent's arm, the feel of where he was leaning. It told you more when you accounted for the feeling of the air, and the vibrations that carried through your lightly sandaled feet. Your sense of smell could tell you many things- fear, anger. Your hearing was very important- a powerful samurai considered his ears every bit as precious as his eyes. The told you what was going on around you much mre than your eyes.  
  
And yet the eyes still had one use that no other sense could cover for. They alone could peer into the heart of another warrior, and determine the strength of his will. The windows to the soul, the were often called. Seijuro believed it, although he'd never spout something that romantic sounding.  
  
He looked at Yahiko. The boy had fire- more so than Hiko had hoped for. He still had a long way to go, but Hiko couldn't help but imagine. Although the boy had a lot of growing to do before Hiko could even begin to speculate in fairness, he saw the precursors. If this boy had the will, he could be stronger than Kenshin, and perhaps the strongest warrior in all of Japan.  
  
Kenshin would be proud.  
  
So would he. 


End file.
